


Lazarus Rising

by crowleyhasfeels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: POV Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleyhasfeels/pseuds/crowleyhasfeels
Summary: Moments from Lazarus Rising but from the point of view of Castiel.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Lazarus Rising

I showed myself to Dean many times, giving him as much information as I felt that he needed in order to take on the task at hand that was presented to him, each time he refused and I could not understand why. I believed so greatly in these humans because God had asked me to, and they chose not to give their faith back in return.

He called for me. He needed me to show my  
face, so I appeared. I entered into the barn in which he lay waiting. The power I let off almost too strong for the barn to hold, lights exploded and flickered around me. I had to remind myself to hold back at times. I was always forgetting.

Fire after fire was shot, bullets buried into the skin of my vessel. Simple tools made by humans to protect themselves but I was not a threat. Had I been, the bullets may have worked against me.

“Who are you?” Dean questioned me and I tried to appear in a manner that was calming. I was not there to hurt him, though I could tell that he assumed I was.

“I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” I had informed him, hoping that he would be grateful for my actions.

“Yeah? Thanks for that.” Dean answered me as he attacked me with the demon blade, noticing it did nothing to phase me, as I am not a demon. So I simply removed it. That was when that oversized man attacked me from behind. I was not there for him, so I had to put him to sleep.

“We need to talk, Dean.” I informed him. “Alone.”

Dean moved beyond me and I stepped out of his way. He hovered over his friend, checking to see if he was alive. But of course he was, I had no desire to kill him. That was not part of my mission.

"Your friend is alive,” I informed him.

“Who are you?” Dean asked me, remaining hovered over his sleeping friend.

“Castiel,” I answered.

“Yeah, I figured that much,” Humans, knowing the answers to their own questions but asking them anyways. “But what are you?”

“I am an angel of the Lord,” I brought my attention back to Dean Winchester. He got up slowly, looking me over, a look of confusion or disbelief in his eyes, I still had trouble telling emotions apart.

“Get the hell out of here,” It seemed like a request from Dean but it was his disbelief. “There is no such thing.”

“This is your problem Dean,” I informed him, though he had many other problems that were not worth mentioning. “You have no faith.”

I knew that I had to give him something more than just my word. He lived in a world where people lied on a daily basis as if it were as simple as breathing. So I lit up the barn and cast a shadow over my wings, gaint, black and full of God’s grace. His looks of terror subsided and for a moment, he looked as if he truly understood who I was. We were getting somewhere.

“Some Angel you are,” Dean found a way to flip the script and hate what I am. “You burned out that poor woman’s eyes.”

“I told her not to spy on my true form,” I explained the event in a way that would make Dean see. All I needed was for Dean to understand who I am and that I was not here to harm him. “It can be overwhelming to humans. So can my real voice but you already know that.”

“The mean the gas station and the motel,” Dean was finally fitting the pieces together. “That was you talking?”

I acknowledged that he was correct with a nod. I could tell that he was letting down a little bit of his guard but I had been watching him long enough to know that he was a hard person to get into. All Dean did in life was push people out. It was not going to be a simple task to get in.

“Buddy,” Dean gave his two cents worth on the situation. “Next time lower the volume”

“It was my mistake,” I let him know that I was aware of the problem and I was not denying that I had messed up. “Certain people. Special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought that you were one of them. I was wrong.”

“And what visage are you in now?” Dean asked, looking over my vessel. “The holy tax accountant.”

“This. This is a vessel,” I looked down at my form, the clothes that clung against it, now covered in holes.

“You’re possessing some poor bastard?” I could tell by his question that he was slipping back into a great dislike for me.

“He is a devout man,” I had to reassure him. “He actually prayed for this.”

“Look pal. I’m not buying what you’re selling,” I did not understand Dean’s words. “Who are you really?”

“I told you,” I had not lied to him about who I was.

“Right,” Dean stepped back slightly, his body language changing. “And why would an Angel, rescue me from hell?”

I could tell that he did not understand why it was him. Of all the people who could be rescued from hell, he was the one person who actually believed that he deserved to be there. He did not believe that he was a man worth rescuing.

“Good things do happen Dean,” I stepped closer to him.

“Not in my experience,” He again fought against the thought of anything good. Everything had to be bad because that is the way it had always been.

“What’s the matter?” I was confused at his unwillingness to accept the good. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, his entire body fighting to not break down. Why men fought the emotions that were given to them by his father was disheartening. God had given them purpose by giving them human emotions.

“Because God commanded it,” that was the only answer I needed to give. It was the bottom line of the situation. “Because we have work for you.”


End file.
